Star Wars: Convergence
by christianstiker
Summary: Nearing the end age of the Sith Civil War, an order of displaced force users, known as the Revanites, seek to maintain the precarious freedoms of Independent systems within the mid rim. But when an unexpected Sith attack upon Nar Shaddaa threatens the safety of the Hutt trading sector, a highly force sensitive boy is thrust into the midst of the war, unprepared yet highly powerful.
1. Chapter 1

_1015 BBY (15 years before destruction of the Dark Brotherhood)_

Chapter 1  
The atmosphere of Nar Shaddaa shimmered as its planetary shields gave way to the lone freighter flying through the dense, smoky atmosphere of Nal Hutta's largest moon. The planet was a smuggler's haven. With a dense alcove of urban buildings covering the surface of the moon, a multitude of deadly diseases moving through populations of galactic vermin, nicknamed gizka, and rampant crime spread throughout the lower regions of the city, it was easy to hide in Nar Shaddaa. Galactic police authorities avoided the planet as if it was the plague itself. And for good reason too: the Hutt crime lords, a species of slug like gangsters known for nefariousness and cruelty, in essence owned both Nal Hutta and its accompanying moon, Nar Shaddaa. Coined The Vertical City by intergalactic traders, Nar Shaddaa was a cesspool, but it also called itself home for Shardin Shalosee.  
Shardin sat in the pilot's seat of his XS stock freighter, nicknamed Shadow. Fitted with false paneling, hidden compartments, and .9 class hyperdrive, Shalosee's ship was created for one purpose: smuggling. He sat back heavily, letting his weight fall upon his leather-padded seat. A contented sigh escaped his lips. He had been gone for weeks on a spice run, shuttling from planet to planet picking up shipments of coline, a mind altering spice that heightened the users physical senses and prevented fear sensations from being transmitted to the brain. Used properly (and illegally) Coline could create an army of enhanced soldiers; currently though, its uses extended to recreational purposes such as boxing and other underground sports. Simply put, Shardin had been gone for too long. He longed to see his wife and son again— he longed to embrace them. Karliah and Xandrix were the center points of his life. But he first needed to unload his cargo, the Hutts were impatient, and deadly, employers.  
Shardin fingered his transmitter, setting his frequency to a local loading dock he often frequented when making shipments.  
"Draviss, this is Shardin Shalosee, requesting to land on loading dock A-7. Do I have confirmation?" Shardin asked insipidly. After dozens of runs throughout the galaxy, he was merely going through the motions. An unfamiliar voice answered through Shardin's transmitter, both surprising and alarming him.  
"This is corporal Donson of the Republic armada Echo, please transmit clearance code, ID number, and civilian identification in order to land."  
"Donson? What happened to Draviss? Why is the republic here?!" Shardin responded, his voice cracking. _The Republic, here? Why would they come to Nar Shaddaa?_ Shardin wondered.  
His transmitter crackled "Please transmit your codes first, then you can dock and have any of questions answered…after your ship is searched and cleared for any contraband or illegal merchandise."  
"Ya… I mean yes, th-they're on the way." Shardin stammered. _This was supposed to be a cake walk! Draviss had promised me no problems!_  
"Alright XS freighter Shadow, you are clear to land. Prepare for document scanning and boarding," the operator echoed out.  
Shardin pointed the nose of The Shadow towards docking bay A-7. As he neared the surface of the landing pad he activated his repulsorlifts and extended his landing gears. Sweat trickled down his muscular face. He brushed back his mud colored hair out of his eyes. Karliah had always told him he needed to cut his hair. He chuckled at the memory of her trying to cut his hair shorter while he slept, telling him that it would make him look rugged. But his joy was cut short as he remembered the situation he was in. He glanced back to false paneling. Those panels had better be worth the credits. The ship rocked as its landing pads hit the dock. Pressing a button, Shardin turned off The Shadow and walked towards the descent ramp that slowly lowered to the ground. He grabbed his rucksack and walked onto the landing tarmac. Being a moon, Nar Shaddaa could not support its own atmosphere. Early settlers on the moon had created the planetary shield and artificial atmosphere due to the moon's proximal location to Nal Hutta. It acted as a perfect garrison city to the Hutt planet below. Artificial wind blew against Shardin as he hugged his vest closer to his body.  
"Corporal Donson, I assume?" Shardin plied, lacing his voice with a convincing yet insincere confidence.  
"Indeed. Now Mr. Shalosee, Your papers please? And if you don't mind we are going to search your ship now."  
"In fact, I think I do mind, Corporal."  
The corporal chuckled and took Shardin's papers. As two troopers entered The Shadow, Donson placed the papers under his scanner. A green light flashed on the scanning tool.  
"Looks like your papers check out. You're free to unload any cargo after the search is concluded. Thank you for your cooperation."  
Corporal Donson looked bored. With nothing for either of the two to do until the search was over, Shardin decided to have his questions answered.  
"Nar Shaddaa and Nal Hutta are independent from the Republic. So, why are you here? And what gave you all the right to occupy my city?" Shardin asked, a sharpened edge clearly present in his voice. Donson didn't so much as flinch at the question.  
"Due to an amalgamation of collective intelligence, we believe that the Sith Hegemony plans to attack and occupy Nal Hutta. We cannot let the Sith control such an important trade route in the mid-rim. The lives of many innocents depend upon us."  
Shardin scoffed. During his fourty-four years of life in the galaxy, all he could gather was that the Republic was a self-serving, bloated aristocracy intent on gaining more and more power. They deserved no respect from him.  
"Under the 3rd treaty of Coruscant, Republic forces are barred from occupation of independent worlds without the consent of local congressional approval! War does not change the statutes of the treaty! What gives the republic the right to do this?"  
Donson looked at Shardin blankly.  
"The Jedi have invoked powers that extend beyond the government's jurisdiction. They've declared martial galactic law, which supersedes Senate powers," Donson looked down at his scanner, "oh, and your ship is clear, we found no contraband, you are free to go."  
Donson and his two underlings then walked away towards the next platform that awaited landing clearance.  
Shardin's anger dissipated as relief washed through him. Guess those compartments were worth the money. But as he walked back to his ship to unload his hidden cargo into a turbolift heading towards interplanetary transport, Shardin could not stop thinking about the Republic occupation.  
War had been a constant in Shardin's life. For the last fifteen years, the Sith had been engaged in a civil war pitting the Sith expansionists against the militant factions of the former empire. Both sides were engaged in a race to see who could conquer the middle rim and the trade routes it encompassed. Tales had been spun throughout the galaxy of what the Sith mystics were capable of. Cantina rumors and battle survivors told stories of unstoppable fighters, capable of destroying whole squadrons of soldiers with just the flick of a finger; stories of aliens that could move massive objects with their minds; stories of nightmarish humanoids producing lightning from their finger tips. But Shardin did not fear the Sith. Though he had heard of their legendary fighting skills and unbridled ruthlessness, the Sith had steered relatively clear of Hutt space. The crime lords were vital to both the Sith and the Republic in war and trade efforts. But Shardin did not fear the Sith like he feared the Jedi. The Jedi, though revered as fair, compassionate, and serene, were entirely misguided within their notions. Because they recruited from birth, the Jedi lacked perspective. From their high towered temple on Coruscant, what they saw as right and just, was what the galaxy was forced to believe was right and just. They trusted the force too much—they learned to ignore the heeding of others; they forgot how to trust in mere mortals. In the last fifteen years, the Jedi had unsuccessfully attempted to purge the mid-rim of the Sith, and in doing so, their crusade has inadvertently sparked a three way war between the Sith Hegemony, the militant Empire, and the Republic. Shardin was scared because the war came at a heavy cost to the Jedi. Dozens of Jedi were killed each year in the war, forcing the Order to quickly replenish itself with new force adepts. Shardin was scared because both he and his son, Xandrix, could feel the force; they could feel the current of life that spread through all beings in the galaxy. And this link to the force was his one vulnerability he could never patch anew. The Jedi would want to take Xandrix away from him.  
Shardin sighed. _Worrying isn't going to help anything, just focus on the present. Focus on the now. _He placed the spice in the planetary turbolift and set it's course for the Hutt packaging room, a location only the Hutt's and a few special workers knew of. Shardin smiled to himself, It's time to go home.  
As he passed through the maze of dirty streets and alleyways that provided Nar Shaddaa its navigational routes, Shardin uneasily began to notice the sheer multitude of Republic guards "stationed" on street corners and riding in air speeders. Every way he looked, their distinct red and yellow armor stood out to Shardin. The Republic soldiers were equipped with blaster rifles, vibroblades, thermal detonators, and carbines, among a multitude of other nightmarish weapons meant to kill. _This is no liberation, this is an occupation! _Shardin's anger continued to simmer as he continued to walk through the dilapidated streets of Nar Shaddaa. The tall skyscrapers, the neon lights, and the familiar color of rust did little to ease Shardin's discomfort. As he continued to walk, the image of the Orange Lady came into view. A cantina housing veteran smugglers, underground boxers, and general lowlifes told him he was close to home. He quickened his pace and a grin spread across his face as he stood under a familiar, beaten up apartment complex. Branded 574323-A, this apartment complex was a sight for sore eyes to Shardin; this was home to the Shalosee family. Gleefully, Shardin keyed in his homeowners code into the entrance keypad. As the door opened up, he bounded into the complex with a large grin and greasy hair covering his face. Shardin was home.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2  
"Xandrix, I better not find you playing Hologames! If your work isn't done you are going to be in a deep pile of bantha dung!" Karliah's voice rang out across the dingy little apartment.  
Xandrix ran across his room at a pace that would rival even a dark wolf and slammed his holoprojector shut. His door burst open. Karliah stood in doorway, hands on hips, a look of annoyance crossing her face. Xandrix thought his mother quaint- with a thin face, jet black hair, and amethyst colored eyes, Karliah was the one constant in his life; he loved his father, but Shardin was gone far too much, forcing Xandrix to constantly rely on his mother. Right now however, Xandrix didn't think his mother looked comforting- she looked menacing.  
"Show me how much work you've finished Xandrix," Karliah commanded. Xandrix squirmed with discomfort.  
"But mom... I... it's too hard for me!" Xandrix lied. Karliah didn't look convinced.  
"Xandrix, you've proven again and again that you are smarter than your classmates. You're being lazy. And being lazy doesn't fly in this house, kiddo," Karliah replied with amusement lacing her voice.  
"Ok, ok, fine Mo..." Xandrix's voice cut off. Falling out of his chair, his eyes shot wide open, his pupils reflecting a iridescent corona.  
"Xani!" Karliah screamed as she ran to her son's side, falling to the ground next to him, propping his head on her lap. She cradled his head as his body shivered harmonically. Karliah sighed; like his father, Xandrix had been given the ability commune with the force. And though neither chose to utilize their abilities, they were often plagued with visions of the future, visions that always became true.  
Xandrix's shivering stopped as he slowly opened his eyes. Karliah's body became tense as she awaited Xandrix's response. He rose, a smile spreading across his face.  
"Daddy's home!" he cried out with glee. Karliah, baffled, raised her eyebrow in confusion.  
"What do you mean? Daddy is gone on a spice run though!" Karliah inquired. She was interrupted by the sound of her door sliding open.  
"Karliah, Xani, I'm back! Where are you guys?" a familiar voice rang out.  
"Dad!" Xandrix exclaimed, blowing past his mother into their entrance hall, jumping into the outstretched arms of his father.  
"Hey buddy, I missed you more than the world itself." His father closed his eyes and he held Xandrix.  
"Dad, I... can't... breath," Xandrix coughed, a smile still decorating his mouth.  
"Heh, sorry Xani, I just missed you a lot," Shardin said as he loosened his grip on Xandrix.  
Shardin looked at Xandrix, and asked, "Now, Xani, where's your..."  
"Mother?" Karliah interrupted, standing in the living room doorway, her hips cocked to the side, her hair jet black hair tossed over her shoulder. A smirk accentuated her mouth:  
"I missed you Shard. You were gone too long."  
Shardin set Xandrix down and walked up to Karliah.  
"I missed you too Kar," Shardin whispered, taking her head, and kissing her lips softly, "but we have much to talk about."

The three Shalosee's walked into their kitchen and prepared for dinner. Xandrix sat down at the table with Shardin, pestering his exhausted father with questions about his spice voyage. Shardin's illegal occupation was no mystery to either Xandrix or Karliah. In desperate times, Karliah sometimes was even forced to assist Shardin by laundering dirty money through her job at the Ithorian cafe. But it was his job that united his family, that supported them, that kept food on their table. Karliah pulled out a greasy Corellian dish from the food processor and placed the dish on the table. Xandrix began to gulp his portion down greedily, ignorant the amused stares he received from his parents. They began to chat about menial topics: Xandrix's school, Karliah's job, local politics, and new holovids in theaters. Once Xandrix had finished his food Shardin's smile fell and an intense frown burned across his face.  
"Xani, it's time you went to your room. Mom and Dad need to talk about adult things. I'll see you in a few minutes buddy."  
Xandrix turned to his father and his mother apprehensively. He had rarely seen his dad this serious. He knew his father's job was not totally "legal," but that didn't mean that his parents should hide things from him. Xandrix stood up from the table reluctantly and walked out of the room. _I'm done with secrets_. Xandrix hid behind the kitchen entrance, and put his ear to the door. He was only able to make out a few muffled words from the conversation.  
"Karliah... things...serious. War... changed."  
"Shar... need... leave. ...not safe."  
"First...must meet...Ric..."  
Xandrix's eavesdropping was interrupted by a familiar feeling. A darkness overcame Xandrix and he collapsed to the floor.

"_You are mine Xandrix Shalosee, mine!" A man's voice echoed. Xandrix turned his head and shuddered. A man, if it could be called that, stood in front of Xandrix. They stood together in the planes of uninterrupted space. Pure emptiness. A void. The man was black as ebony. His eyes glowed a deep yellow, darker and more faded than the light of a dwarf star. Wrapped in a dark black cloak, the man looked starving. He eyed Xandrix hungrily.  
"We will find each other, Xandrix. And when we do, I will show you true power. We are destined for each other. And you WILL JOIN ME!"_

Xandrix woke up with a start, panting heavily. His parents were standing over him, panic stricken on their face.  
"Wake up Xandrix! Get up, we need to leave!" Karliah cried out. She wore a pouch on her back and was bundled in warm clothes. Shardin wore a slick black jumpsuit; a blaster sat in a holster on his waist. Something was wrong.  
"What's wrong Mom? Dad, why are you dressed like that?" Xandrix asked. He had no idea how long he was out for. Slowly, his hearing came back to him. Loud booms resonated throughout the room. The ceiling of the apartment shuddered in an effort to support the durasteel frame of the building. Loud explosions resonated in what seemed like mere feet from the building.  
"Xandrix, GET UP!" Karliah screamed. She grabbed his hand and yanked him off the ground. "Shard, get us out of here! Where is the ship?!"  
Shardin had already started towards the apartment exit.  
"Docking bay A-7! It's about a kilometer North of here! Follow me, closely!"  
The three Shalosee's bounded down the stairwell, Xandrix in tow with his mother.  
"What's happening, why are we running!"  
Shardin turned and met Karliah's eyes. He gave her a curt nod.  
Karliah turned back to Xandrix, "The Sith have played their hand; they trying to take the moon!"  
Xandrix's face drained of color. He had heard stories about the Sith from both his parents and schoolmates; from all that he had gathered, they were to be avoided at all costs. Known as mystics, or dark force wielders, accounts of Sith butchery became the source of nightmares for children. And now they were here on Nar Shaddaa.  
Shardin burst out of the apartment complex, blaster in hand. In front of him lay the smoldering wreckage of burnt buildings, wrecked repulsorcrafts and taxis, and charred bodies. Turbolaser fire deafened overhead. Shardin raised his head to see three Sith capital ships crawling with fighters shuddering over the city. A barrage of green death rained from the ships, with each laser impact vibrating the ground. He turned to his wife and child, beckoning them onward. They had to continue. Xandrix stepped out of the apartment hesitantly. In his heart he knew his old life was gone; what lay before him was shrouded in mystery.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3  
The three Shalosees crept through the streets, Shardin leading point. Thus far they had avoided any firefights and had only witnessed the aftermath of the many skirmishes that dotted the Vertical City. The large capital ships that hovered in the artificial atmosphere had ceased firing, instead opting to release wave after wave of landing craft, presumably holding numerous squads of Sith foot soldiers. Republic air resistance early on in the fight had been annihilated. The two lone Republic frigates orbiting the moon had been destroyed immediately after Sith deployment from hyperspace. The seemingly random turbolaser barrages had tactically wiped out all anti-aircraft equipment on the ground, creating a safe path for Sith landing craft to land unhampered in the city.  
The Shalosee's reached a dead end in their path. The road that would have led to the A loading docks was cut off. Crumbling debris from destroyed buildings had created an insurmountable barrier that proved impassible; Shardin's heart dropped. They were so close to safety, and it was snatched away. He turned to Xandrix and Karliah and attempted to keep a straight face, but his despair was clear and present in his eyes.  
"The route to the landing pad is blocked. We're going to have to trail back and go through the main market," Shardin tried to explain. Xandrix's eyes welled with tears. Karliah squeezed Xandrix closer to her body.  
"Shard, we can't go back to the market! If the Sith aren't there already they will be arriving shortly, it's going to be a bloodbath!" Karliah shrieked, panic clearly overtaking her, "We can't take Xandrix there!"  
The market area was the location for the local disaster center. Panicked civilians and rookie smugglers would have headed there in attempt to find safety: the location provided the perfect location for a Sith massacre.  
"No Karliah, we have to go. I know a shortcut through the market to the landing pads. As long as we stick to the upper levels and roofs of the area, we should be safe. Besides, we have me for protection, we'll be fine," Shardin soothed, flashing a forced grin. Karliah took no respite from his gesture. Her shoulders dropped with resigned acceptance.  
"Fine. Let's go," she sighed. The Shalosee's turned back towards the origin of the mayhem and trudged on. They could only hope that this hurricane had a calm eye in the center.

"Stop," Shardin raised his hand, motioning his family to halt, "we're here."  
He motioned his hand towards a building that was spared from the capital ship bombing. The Crimson Conglomerate, a company that focused on marketing natural gas, had spread it's influence to Nar Shaddaa in an attempt to reach out to the Hutt markets. For now, their corporate building offered the safest path to the A loading docks. The Shalosee's were positioned behind a corner at the entrance of the open air market; the Crimson offices stood 50 meters from them. Shardin crept to the corner of his cover and peered around the corner of the wall that opened into the market. The market was empty. Shops were seemingly untouched and goods lay on shelfs undamaged. The silence in the market was overpowering. With the exception of distant blaster fire and the hum of repulsorlift engines of far away landing craft, they market was a eerily quiet... too quiet.  
Shardin turned back to his family and shuffled to where they were crouched.  
"Listen, see that building over there?" Shardin motioned towards the Crimson offices, "We need to get to its top level and onto the roof. Then we can make our way to the landing pads, understand?" Karliah and Xandrix nodded, thoroughly shaken.  
Shardin continued, "I'm going to run to the building first. If anybody fires at me, I want you to turn around and run back to the apartment complex. If I make it, then you two will follow at my signal."  
He cleared his throat and shuffled his feet in a nervous gesture. _This isn't right. This shouldn't be a ghost town._ Looking for one last time into the market square, he vaulted over the corner rubble and began to dash towards the Crimson offices. His eyes were thin slits as he charged towards the buildings expecting a parade of blaster fire to follow him. He reached the offices and jumped inside the open doorway. Turning, he signaled back to his family to come to him. Xandrix and Karliah sprinted to him uninjured or phased. This was easy. Almost too easy.  
"Xandrix, Karliah, keep your eyes open. Something isn't right here. Let's move up to the top level."  
They moved to the emergency staircase and began to climb.  
Shardin reached the top, barely winded. Karliah and Xandrix followed a few steps behind, panting heavily. While the building was only ten stories high, they had traversed the stairwell in record time. Shardin kicked open an emergency door and stepped out onto the rooftop. They had found their way to the loading docks... freedom was just a few kilometers ahead.  
Xandrix's voice interrupted Shardin's train of thought, "Dad, who are those men down below?" Shardin looked over the edge of the roof; a squad of twelve republic soldiers had entered the market square. He squinted and focused his gaze on the men; they look bedraggled, tired, and weak. While still armed, they hardly withheld any of the professional demeanor that they had shown before the invasion. They continued to walk through the market when a shimmer caught Shardin's eyes. The shimmer sauntered behind a market stall and disappeared. That shimmer looked almost like... like a soldier!  
"Xandrix, Karliah, get low, now. Don't look over the edge. When you hear the sound of blaster fire, follow me along the roofing complex... in fact, don't even get near the edge, stay to the center," he warned his family. Karliah and Xandrix backed from the edge of the roof and took a running stance. Shardin tensed in preparation for what was to happen next. He had seen that shimmer before on a Sith world. Imperial cloaking devices had difficulty properly absorbing and reflecting light, causing shimmers when cloaked users moved. The market was not abandoned; it was teeming with cloaked Sith soldiers, waiting for proper prey to walk into their trap. Apparently the Shalosees had not offered a tempting enough target as much as the Republic did.  
The Republic soldiers had fully dispersed into the market at this point. Shardin watched not knowing whether to be horrified or thankful for the imminent diversion. The wamp rat had walked into the bullseye; it was time for the Sith to spring their trap. A lone Republic trooper investigating a food stall cried out clutching his stomach. A vibroblade protruded from his torso and was promptly ripped out, taking with it the intestines of the Republic soldier. Shardin flinched, there was nothing he could do for the Republic soldiers. As much as he disliked their disguised imperialism, they did nothing to deserve the punishment they were about to receive. The vibroblade wielding ghost uncloaked. Garbed in a black and gold armor, republic blood decorating the Sith warrior's chest plate. He roared a war cry and the rest of the Sith troopers unveiled themselves. They opened fire and bodies began to fall. Behind Shardin, Karliah and Xandrix shuddered as sounds of the battle reached their ears.  
"It's time to go, run!" Xandrix commanded Karliah. The Shalosees sprinted from roof to roof, aiming to get as far from the conflict as possible. Shardin looked back at the battle on the ground. Though a minority in number, the Sith had overpowered the Republic and forced them to take cover in an electronic market kiosk. Ten Sith warriors advanced upon the kiosk, their carbines and blasters bolts shattering against the measly cover the Republic cowered behind. The vibroblade wielding Sith, the squad leader Shardin guessed, pulled out a grenade from his belt and activated the kill switch. With a nonchalant underhand toss, the grenade fell into the kiosk with the six surviving soldiers. Shardin heard a cry of alarm that was silenced by the resonating detonation from the grenade. Still running, Shardin turned his head away from the battle. Pieces of Republic soldiers lay scattered around the market; not a single soldier had been spared from the blast. Their bodies were unrecognizable. He turned away from the carnage as his heart began to climb up his throat. They didn't deserve that. Nobody deserves that death. He turned back to his family and ran to them.  
"Alright. We're about a kilometer from the docks. Follow me and stay strong," Shardin assured his wife and son. With that, he opened the emergency stairwell door and raced towards the docks.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4  
Xandrix followed his parents down the stairwell, trying as hard as possible to not trip over his little feet. Xandrix inherited much of his qualities from his father- his corona eyes, his lean, athletic figure, and his long, brown hair, which at the moment he swept from his eyes. Sweat trickled down his face but his attention was fixed on his father who was leaping from step to step, nearly clearing a whole floor per stride. Xandrix reached the bottom of the stairwell, panting and bent over trying to catch his breath.  
"Dad... are we almost... there?" Xandrix panted trying to meet his father's gaze.  
"Yes. But I need to you to be quiet. There may be troops near the landing pads. Again, just follow me closely," Shardin responded cooly. He gripped his blaster tighter and shuffled towards the exit. Xandrix watched as his father reached the door and cautiously opened it, peeking his face outside. His father turned back to Xandrix and his mother and nodded. He burst out the door sprinting towards the landing zone, with Xandrix and Karliah closely in tow.  
Despite his age and schooling, Xandrix understood the politics behind this invasion well. In control of Nar Shaddaa, the Sith Hegemony would control a vital garrison city to Nal Hutta. And with the conquest of Nar Shaddaa, Nal Hutta would follow, providing the Sith conquerors with access to vital trade routes in the mid-rim. This invasion spelled disaster for independent worlds and Republic controlled perimeter planets; the Sith would have a clear path into Republic controlled space after this invasion, allowing the tide of the war to turn in favor of the civil war torn Empire. But for now, all Xandrix could worry about was getting off the moon. He and his parents had nearly reached the landing pads without hinderance. _This is suspicious. Where are all the Republic forces? Why haven't the Sith cut off escape from the planet? _The only soldiers Xandrix had seen so far were the soldiers from the market and casualties from the orbital bombing. He pushed these thoughts out of his mind. Worrying wouldn't help the situation. Shardin, a few paces ahead of Xandrix and Karliah, was within fifty meters of the landing pads. Xandrix could see the Shadow just ahead of his family.  
"We're almost there, keep going!" Xandrix heard his father say. But his attention was riveted upon his mother. Without warning, she clutched at her throat, choking, desperate for air. Xandrix raced to his mother, calling for his father's assistance. Shardin turned around to come to his wife's aid when a voice echoed through the landing pad.

"Going so soon?"

Xandrix and his father whipped back towards the landing pad where the noise had originated. The hair on Xandrix's neck stood up stiffly, the voice sounded eerily familiar to him, but he couldn't match a face with the raspy voice.  
"Dad, what's happening?!" Xandrix managed to squeek, terrified.  
Shardin looked at Xandrix, throatily responding, "Help your mother, do everything you can!" Xandrix's gazed at his father's trembling figure, his hand white from his tight grip on his blaster. He had never seen his father scared before. Hope drained from Xandrix like a starship fleeing an interdictor cruiser. He turned wide eyed to his mother; he could do nothing for her. Whatever was gripping her was far beyond the control of Xandrix and Shardin.  
"SHOW YOURSELF COWARD!" Xandrix heard his father scream hoarsely. The silence that followed was interrupted by the raspy voice interjecting again.

"As you wish... Shardin."

Shardin and Xandrix whipped around back in the direction of the city where the voice now came from. Horror dawned upon Xandrix as he recognized where he had first heard the voice. _The man from my vision!_  
Xandrix and Shardin fully turned around. They were not alone. Standing ten meters away from them was a man cloaked in black. A hood covering his head mottled his face with an obtrusive shadow, preventing any light from touching his skin. His right arm was held outwards towards Karliah with curled fingers forming an imaginary vice. From under his hood, his burning yellow eyes and demon like grin could be seen. Behind the monstrous man stood three Sith troopers, guns at their sides.  
In his peripheral vision Xandrix saw his father aim his blaster and fire off three shots at the men. The soldier next to the cloaked man crumpled as a bolt hit him in the chest. The other two shots deflected off the up turned palm of the cloaked man. The other two soldiers did not even flinch. With a slight gesture from the hooded man, Shardin's gun was ripped from his hand by an invisible force. They were defenseless. Xandrix turned back to his mother to see her levitating in the air with her hands gripping her throat.  
Shardin was cried out desperately, "Please, let her go! Take me if that's what you want, just let her and my boy go!"  
Xandrix started to sweat profusely. The hooded man didn't want just Shardin, he wanted Xandrix as well.  
"As you wish," the hooded man responded. His grip tightened for a fraction of a second and then dropped his hand. Behind him, Xandrex heard the crunching of bone and flesh. He turned back to see his mother drop to the dusty ground, her lifeless body crumpled on the street. A well of emotion gathered inside of Xandrix. His mother, his rock... was gone, murdered by a faceless man. He tried to scream but no words would come from his mouth; a buildup of power began to stir in his lungs as he attempted to gasp and say anything at all.  
"NO!" Xandrix barely heard his father scream. Xandrix could only stand still as his father gathered Karliah's pitiful body in his arms. Tears streamed down both son and father's faces. The hooded Sith stood watching, a grin of satisfaction spread across his face. The two Sith soldiers stood motionless, devoid of emotion. Shardin turned back to the Sith. Insane fury overtook him. Xandrix still could do nothing. He felt a power within himself he needed to release; his body was a black hole, preventing noise, emotion, or movement from escaping his body.  
"You sithspawn coward! Show yourself murderer! She did nothing to you!" Shardin screamed, fury accentuating his hoarse voice.  
"On the contrary, you and her did everything," the hooded man responded, his anger present in his voice. He pulled back his hood revealing his face. His face was the color of the vacuum of space. His eyes were yellow like a fading star of an abandoned system. Grey scars traveled down his face winding past his black features like an interplanetary highway. There could be no dispute: this was the man from Xandrix's vision. He had come to claim his prize.  
The anger in Shardin's face dissipated as soon as the man's hood fell. The color drained from his face and he stammered,  
"Y...yo...you? How can this be? How are you alive?" Shardin fell to his knees, his eyes locked onto the Sith's face. Confusion layered itself upon the incredible sadness that had overtaken Xandrix. How does Dad know who he is? Why isn't he trying to attack him? We need to avenge Mom! But Xandrix could do nothing. The emotion continued to boil in Xandrix's chest, trying to escape.  
"With the force, anything is possible, Shardin. I would have thought you would tap into your potential by now. Alas, your ignorance is your downfall," the Sith spat. He raised his hands and electricity began to spit from his fingers. Within a second, lightning engulfed Shardin. Xandrix tried to scream but he couldn't; he could only stand and watch. Electricity coursed through Shardin's body as the man shot more and more voltage through him; yet Shardin did not make a noise. The Sith's frustration amplified with the lack of Shardin's reaction.  
"Scream you coward! Scream!"  
Shardin did not make a noise. Shuddering, in obvious agony, he turned to Xandrix.  
"I...love...you...Son," Shardin managed to moan. The Sith roared in frustration and a final burst of energy took Shardin off his feet, making him crash into the dock offices twenty meters away. He hit the floor and didn't move. Xandrix was paralyzed; his fear, his anger, his sadness all welled up inside him and reached a final threshold.  
"And now, Xandrix, you are mine."  
The bottled up power inside Xandrix erupted; an unearthly wail escaped Xandrix's lips. The two guards, who until now had not even reacted to the Shalosee's, screamed and began clawing at their ears. Xandrix cried out for his mother, for his father, for his home, and for future. His anguish fueled his power as his scream continued to rise in intensity. The two Sith troopers ripped off their helmets and fell to the ground, clutching their ears in agony. Blood poured from the sides of their heads and pooled on the ground. Recovering from the initial shock of the scream, the dark skinned Sith recomposed himself and raised his hand. With a pinch of the Sith's fingers, Xandrix's mouth was closed and his throat shut tightly. The two troopers had stopped writhing on the ground and managed to pick themselves back up, rearming themselves and training their weapons upon Xandrix.  
"I could have taken you conscious or unconscious. You made your choice, not I," the Sith growled.  
The tips of Xandrix's toes lifted off the ground as the grip around his throat tightened. Xandrix himself to meet the Sith's gaze. Pure hatred fueled Xandrix, he would not give up consciousness without a fight. Seeing his resistance, the Sith chuckled.  
"You will make a powerful Sith, Xandrix. And eventually, you will thank me for this day," the Sith soothed. Xandrix's vision began to cloud as reality slipped away him. A flicker of movement caught Xandrix's eye, bringing him temporarily back to the present. From atop a ruined building, a man ran towards the ledge, his right hand holding onto a short, cylindrical, metal tube. Reaching the edge of the building, the man crouched and then propelled himself from the ledge, sailing through the air like a glider. The Sith's face scrunched in concentration, trying to determine the shift in the force. Xandrix felt the change as well, hope surging through him. Suddenly, the Sith's eyes shot open and he leaped away towards the docks, releasing his grip on Xandrix. As Xandrix hit the ground, the man from the rooftop landed on the ground next to the two infantrymen. Upon landing, a shockwave of energy rippled through the air smashing into the two unaware soldiers, throwing them into different pieces of broken buildings. As they crashed, Xandrix heard a squelch of broken bones. The troopers were dead. With his back turned to the Sith, Xandrix gazed at his unlikely savior. The man looked roughly middle aged and wore a simple grey tunic. His hair was more grey than brown and his face was scarred from his nose to his neck. But his composure emanated an aura of confidence and hope.  
"Nero, I presume? Strange that your master isn't here spoon feeding you. I'll give you a chance- leave or die. Your choice," the man said. _If he is trying to bait the Sith...Nero... into a fight, then it's certainly working, Xandrix thought._  
Nero stood still, wielding a long metal tube much like the one the stranger held. Xandrix recognized their weapons as lightsabers- energy swords capable of mass destruction when placed in the right hands; and currently they were in the hands of masters.  
"Do you think I am so foolish as to let a man like you bait me? I am no fool, and I know more than you could possibly imagine... Rickin," Nero replied coldly. Xandrix felt Nero's icy rage manifest itself through the atmosphere. At the sound of his name, the stranger was taken aback. Obviously, he did not expect the Sith to know who he was. Even at the verge of unconsciousness. Xandrix could feel an even flow of serenity and passion flow through Rickin. The two combatants gripped their weapons tighter.  
"Then let us begin," Rickin whispered. The two bounded at each other, their speeds amplified by an unknown force to Xandrix. A second before contact, their lightsabers activated; Nero's crimson blade met Rickin's yellow's blade in a fury of energy. Both Nero and Rickin gave no ground to the other; they stood still as their sabers flashed and whirled faster than Xandrix could follow. Sweat began to pour down the two combatants faces. Nero thrusted with his sword in an attempt to impale his opponent. Rickin curtly sidestepped Nero's thrust and countered with a strong overhead strike. With blinding speed, Nero raised his saber in time to catch Rickin's blow, but the force of the attack sent Nero flying back though the air. Before hitting the ground, Nero righted himself in the air and landed smoothly on his feet. He raised his hand and sent a cascade of lightning towards Rickin. The lighting did not touch flesh. Rickin's yellow blade caught the lightning and sent it towards his outstretched left hand; the lightning pooled into a small sphere within his hand. Xandrix looked on in amazement as the energy seemed to dissipate into the rest of the grey haired man's body. Nero cut off the lighting stream and gripped his lightsaber, ready to charge back at his powerful opponent. Rickin did not give him that chance. The energy that Xandrix thought had dissipated within Rickin crackled with deadly potential. Nero charged, his lightsaber blade dragging across the ground behind him. Ten meters before reaching Rickin he propelled himself from the ground and brought his saber above his head to come crashing down on his enemy. He got no further. Still curled on the ground, Xandrix gasped in awe as Rickin released his stored energy upon Nero, who was still mid-air. A whirlwind of unstable force hit Nero square in the chest. Xandrix felt a strong reverberation as Nero was propelled backwards into a crumbling building across from the docking bay. As his body hit the building with incredible force, the durasteel frame of the building gave out, causing the rest of the duracrete, metal, and plasteel to fall on top of the Sith warrior, burying him in heavy debris.  
The man, Rickin, ran towards Xandrix at an urgent pace. But upon reaching Xandrix, he continued running towards the loading docks. Rickin ran to entrance of the loading docks and stopped where Shardin lay. Rickin moved his hands over Shardin's body checking for vital signs. Laying his hand upon Shardin's chest, Rickin's hand began to glow as pure force flowed into Shardin's body. Xandrix, from where he lay, joyfully realized that his father's chest began to heave up and down in a breathing motion. Rickin lowered his ear centimeters away from Shardin's mouth. Xandrix motioned to his father; he was too weak to even call out to him; all he could do was lay still and watch his father silently whisper to Rickin. At different intervals, Rickin would nod his head and his frown would grow deeper. Xandrix's pulse raced as the movement of Shardin's chest ceased. Rickin too looked stricken, but with an insatiable pain, as though he had lost something that mattered dearly to him. Tears sprung to Xandrix's eyes as he set his eyes upon his fallen father and mother. Karliah- charitable, kind, and compassionate, had been ripped from Xandrix without second thought. Shardin- brave, confident, and empathetic, had been tossed aside with ease. His parents were gone, but Xandrix promised himself that their legacy would live on. Before falling into the void of unconsciousness, Xandrix conjured up the image of the ebony face of Nero. He stared into his burning yellow eyes and made a promise, a promise to avenge his parents, a promise to avenge his home... a promise to kill Nero.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5  
Nero, upon waking, burst forth from the wreckage of his confinement and thundered towards the docking bay. Shardin and Karliah's bodies were gone. But he knew they were dead; the force held no signatures of their essence. He had relished feeling the crunch of Karliah's windpipe under his telekinetic grip and the accompanied cries from Xandrix and Shardin. Killing Shardin had proved less fulfilling than he had imagined, but the pleasure gained from Shardin's death nonetheless fueled Nero's descent within the darkness. Nero gauged his injuries; besides a few deep cuts and a cracked rib, he was untouched. He had shielded himself within the force when he hit the building, allowing for the absorption of most of the damage that would have otherwise been inflicted on Nero.  
Nero cursed to himself and his anger amplified even more so. While he had completed his master's mission parameters, he had let Xandrix and Rickin escape, and the weight of his personal failure weighed upon him. He pulled out his lightsaber and activated the blade. He then removed his garments and knelt on the ground.  
_The time for penance has come. And with pain comes anger, and with anger comes power, and with power comes mastery over the dark side. My weaknesses shall become my strengths._  
He touched the blade of his lightsaber to his chest, letting his flesh sizzle until the pain was unbearable. Nero did not cry out; he ground his teeth together and focused on the image of Xandrix and Rickin.  
_You will be mine Xandrix. You will see all that you care for fall and be destroyed. And when you have lost all hope, you will truly know the dark_. His train of thought was interrupted by a beeping noise originating on one of his dead soldiers. Nero paced over to the crumpled body and eyed the soldier with disgust. _If he is not strong enough to survive, he does not deserve to serve under the mantle of the Sith_. He picked up the transponder and activated the reception chip.  
*Omega squad leader, do you require an evac? Repeat, do you require an evac?*  
"This is General Nero. Bring me a shuttle to the A-class Landing Docks. Then inform command to continue landing troops in the docking bay sectors. Do not make me wait. I will transmit my coordinates to you."  
*Yes sir, a shuttle is already on its way.*

Nero ascended the stairs into the shuttle and closed the blast doors behind himself. In the passenger area of the ship were three Sith commandos. An escort service. How quaint.  
"Your protection is not required men. Leave me be," Nero commanded. The three Sith soldiers left the main passenger bay and walked into the pilot's quarters. Nero sat down on the hardened durasteel floor and closed his eyes. He would meditate in the force, find the center point of his rage, and understand his vulnerabilities. With this knowledge, he would become unstoppable.  
A gravelly voice interrupted Nero's visions.

_I am glad to hear you have returned alive, Nero. Once you board the Exactor, come to Korriban, we have much to discuss. Now, did you complete your mission? _

Though surprised by the interruption, Nero had grown used to his master's psychic summonings. He attuned his attention to the link he had forged with his master over the years and concentrated his force energy on the distant presence of his master.

_Yes my master, Shardin and his wife are dead. But I have failed. The boy, Xandrix escaped with the assistance of the force user you notified me of, Rickin. I will accept any punishment deemed appropriate for my failure._

Nero knelt his head in shame, preparing for the worst. Though he had forged a close relationship with his master, the tales of Sith brutality, especially correlating with failure, were enough to inspire fear in even the most adept Sith learner. His fear dissipated as the soft sound of chuckling vibrated in his mind. Flooding with relief, Nero realized his master was amused, not angry.

_You must learn, my young apprentice, that failure does not denote the failing of an individual. You may have let them escape, but you fulfilled your primary objective. You have not failed me, you have only failed the standards you have placed upon yourself. And I do not doubt that you will strengthen yourself through your failings. The man you faced was very powerful in the ways of the force. I did not expect you to triumph over him had you met in battle._

_I understand, my lord. But, I do not know whether Shardin was able to communicate with the force user. He had not died before I was incapacitated. I only was sure of his death until I regained consciousness. He may have passed on vital information to Rickin._

Nero temporarily felt the mental connection between his master tighten and become sharper. But as soon as it sharpened it began to recede again in intensity.

_Luckily for us both, this information he has could benefit our cause. After we meet on Korriban I will convene with the ruling council to decide our next step of action. Make haste my apprentice. _

The mental connection with his master severed and Nero opened his eyes to see that his shuttle had begun docking procedures with the Exactor. Nero stood up and walked to the communications system. He activated the comm and keyed in a code that linked to the bridge of the stationary capital ship.  
"This is bridge communications officer Haldrin, please relay recognition code for operating."  
Phantom, repeat Phantom.  
"You are clear for communications. What is your operating title?" This is General Nero. I do not have time for standard procedures, Officer. Patch me through to Commander Ojak immediately.  
"Yes sir, right away," the Officer replied curtly. Though obediant and loyal, Nero could sense the uneasiness and fear that his presence inspired around his troops. He sighed. He only required their obedience and respect. As long as they followed orders they would have nothing to fear. Nero did not think himself ruthless or merciless; he was simply efficient and tactical, using all means to find a solution. But right now, Nero had no time for patience; he needed to get to Korriban as soon as possible.  
*kchhh- "This is Commander Oja-"  
Nero cut him off, "As soon as my shuttle boards the Exactor, set an immediate route to Korriban. I want no delays, Commander."

"Yes sir, but no disrespect, what about the landing force? We haven't deployed all of our troops?"  
"The other two cruisers will finish the landing process. All Republic and local resistance has been wiped out. Nar Shaddaa is ours. The planned occupation of Nal Hutta will be commanded by Darth Resis. Our work here is finished. Nero out."  
As soon as the landing shuttle had turned off its engines, Nero could feel the familiar hum of the hyperspace drive activating within the ship. Nero allowed himself to smile. He was going home.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6  
Xandrix's eyes fluttered open and he took a deep breath in. Light flooded into his eyes and the familiar hum a ship's engine filled his ears. Xandrix struggled to stand up but realized his body was frozen. His breath quickened as he realized he couldn't move any of his body parts except for his face. He managed to let free a muffled cry- even his vocal cords were not working correctly.  
A soft voice drew Xandrix's attention away from his current plight, "Relax Xandrix. You're safe for now. I'm not going to hurt you."  
The voice sounded reassuring to his ears, but Xandrix did not know who the words belonged to. He strained to turn his head to the voice but was unable.  
"Ah, the cortosis weave is still in effect. You'll be able to move again in moments."  
Xandrix heard the noise of footsteps walking away from the table he was apparently bound to. With the soft click of a switch, Xandrix felt the invisible restraints on his body slacken and release. He quickly sat up and turned to his captor. In front of him stood a medium sized man in a grey tunic; a scar ran down from his nose to his cheek to his neck. His grey hair gave him the image of a fatherly figure, one who Xandrix could confide in. Xandrix recognized the man, his savior- Rickin.  
Xandrix was bursting with questions. He opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out was a raspy wheezing sound.  
"Ah yes, you're esophagus is damaged from the Sith's choke hold. Don't try and over exert yourself. I placed you in the cortosis weave to induce paralysis in order to keep your body from any further harm. I imagine you have many questions though."  
Tears sprung to Xandrix's eyes as the word Sith brought him back to the present. His mother and father were gone. Taken from him without remorse. The tears in his eyes flooded down his face and a garbled whimper escaped his lips. Seeing his tears, Rickin's eyes lowered and his face burned red.  
"I'm sorry Xandrix. I couldn't save them. I tried my hardest... and I too feel for your loss. You may not know me but your parents were my friends as well. I'm sorry," Rickin softly lamented. He placed his arm on Xandrix's shoulder. A warmth began to flow through Xandrix, comforting him, and lessened the flow of tears on his face.  
"I understand what you feel may be crippling, that you don't want to go on, that you are done fighting. But listen to me; you are strong. You have survived from what most would have cowered from. You are more powerful in the force than you can comprehend. You have the potential to be great; but it is only potential. If you give up now, if you let your grief overtake you, you will wallow in your own self-pity for the rest of your life. You need to rise above your emotions. Understand your feelings, but don't let them control you."

Xandrix raised his head to meet Rickin's gaze. Around Xandrix were two pilot chairs, a control panel, two small beds, and the medical table he was laying on. The ship he was flying on was sparse in space, meant only for speed and non-detection. But all Xandrix could focus on was the staunch gaze that seemingly pierced his soul. He opened his mouth and began to wheeze out noises that began to resemble words.  
"Urghhh...ahsh...huhhhh" Xandrix sighed and concentrated on channeling energy through his throat, "I...want to... to learn... to be strong."  
A smile decorated Rickin's face and pride beamed from him like the rays of a star in supernova. He squeezed Xandrix's shoulder, relaying his approval. He turned from Xandrix and looked towards the main viewing port. The ship was in hyperspace. Space and time melded together in this mysterious form of travel. Thousands of lightyears could be traversed within days or hours depending upon the ship, and from what Xandrix could infer, this ship was a fast ship.  
Rickin's voice echoed softly within the small confines of the ship, "You likely have many questions, so I'll start from the beginning of what you remember yesterday."  
_Yesterday? Have I really been out for a full day?_ Xandrix wondered almost out loud.  
Rickin continued, "The Sith Hegemony attacked Nar Shaddaa yesterday at 0900 Coruscant time. They leveled the city's defenses and began to land troops. I imagine it is because they wish to use the city as a garrison for a later attack on Nal Hutta. They've overplayed their hand hopefully, which will allow Hutt forces to fight back within different sectors of space. But a strong resistance is unlikely."  
Xandrix sat motionless. He was stunned. It was said to be impossible by traders and merchants alike that the Hutt sector could be overtaken. They were far too vital to the war efforts on either the Republic or Sith sides. An overly aggressive move, exemplified by the attack yesterday, would force the Hutt syndicate to cut off trade with their attackers and shift trade efforts to the other battling force. But nobody expected that the Nal Hutta, the base of all Hutt operations, and the core of the Hutt empire could be attacked. All hyperspace routes to the planet would be monitored heavily. For the Sith to have gone unnoticed through the hyperspace lanes meant that they had either employed a Sith ritual that none had seen or heard of before, or that they had managed to infiltrate the core circle of the Hutts. Either hypothesis seemed highly improbable.  
Rickin saw Xandrix's astonishment and went on, "Yes, it may seem foolhardy for the Sith to overextend their hand. With the Empire at the backs of the Hegemony and the Hutt's and Republic in front, this would appear to be a last desperate move by the Sith to control vital trade routes," Rickin's face darkened and he pursed his lips, "But... I have been given new information that would dispel the notion that the Sith are weak. This is a preemptive strike to showcase their new power. War has changed and the galaxy is no longer safe."  
Xandrix tried to climb off the med table but was unable to do so. Instead he only managed to open his mouth and croak out one word:  
"W...w...why?"  
Rickin whirled around to face Xandrix. Gone were the soft features that defined his face; gone was the sympathetic smile that garnered his face; gone was his confidence. Only a brittle hardness remained. He opened his mouth to answer Xandrix but abruptly closed it. His eyes softened and he spoke with a newfound tenderness.  
"Xandrix, you don't know the whole truth about your parents. And I'm sorry the truth could not have been told to you earlier. Your father was not a simple smuggler, and your mother was not a waitress at a cafe. They were..." Rickin paused to lessen the effect of his news, "...they were agents of peace that were charged with keeping the peace of independent systems."  
Xandrix gasped. His throat began to roar in pain as he stifled a cry of surprise. A pit formed in his stomach. _How...how could they lie? How could they lie to me? And agents of what? Why couldn't they tell me anything?_ A pathetically throaty cry caught itself in Xandrix's throat like a Shyrma worm too large to escape its burrow.  
Rickin again placed his hand on Xandrix's shoulder and attempted to comfort the shivering boy. Xandrix rejected the comforting energy that flowed through Rickin's hands. The emotions poured from Xandrix like an Alderaanian waterfall. Rickin stepped away Xandrix and covered his face. He raised his hands and a shield of energy pooled around Xandrix's body. And in the knick of time too; inside the vortex of invisible energy, the seat Xandrix sat in shivered and vibrated and the air surrounding Xandrix began to glow a dull orange.

"Xandrix! You must control your emotions! Don't repress them, but embrace them for what they are! If you don't you will destroy the ship! Xandrix... please," Rickin pleaded desperately. He had taken a chance in telling Xandrix the truth about his parents, and his instincts had gone awry. Xandrix was far more powerful than he had anticipated, and his energy shield began to weaken.  
Within the orb of energy, Xandrix's eyes snapped open, reflecting a shimmering blue corona. The confines of the ship faded away as he was transported to an infinite black plane. Darkness stretched from every direction. He was alone.  
"Xandrix, I'm here for you."  
Xandrix flipped around to identify the voice that seemed to come from all directions in his black prison.  
"Who are you?!" Xandrix throatily yelled out, hoping to for a person to appear before him. He was met with silence. _This isn't real. This is no reality of mine. But I feel that I have been here, many, many times_. He scrunched his face up in concentration. His mind felt blurry; a haze seemed to fill the vast expanse of his mind. _I must be dreaming, I feel... no, I know that I am on the ship with Rickin. Yes! This must be a dream, I just need to wake up._  
The voice began to resonate within the plane of the darkness again, but converged into one small point. Xandrix looked on in wonder as the small point burst into an aura of white light. The light began to take form into the shape of a humanoid. A sonorous voice floated across the abyss of darkness and penetrated Xandrix's senses.  
"Xandrix, I have always been with you. And so too has your father. You have a great journey ahead of you."  
_I recognize that voice... MOM!?_  
"Mom! How are you still alive?! Where are we?"  
The bright figure stood motionless but began to recede.  
"I have little time left Xandrix. You must accept your heritage within the force. But now you must control your emotions! Do not attempt to manipulate them like the Sith or shunt them like the Jedi, but understand your emotions, and within them find serenity! Your father and I love you, but we must now leave you now. Our legacy falls to you."  
The bright figure dimmed and faded away.  
"Mom? Wait... stay! Please don't leave me!" Xandrix said desperately.  
One final whisper echoed within the black planes of space before the light burned out:  
"I never will..."  
The black space that surrounded Xandrix began to dissolve. Xandrix opened his eyes and saw he was still on Rickin's ship, surrounding him was an energy barrier and a tired Rickin concentrating one maintaining the field. The emotion drained from Xandrix and the vibrations stopped. The energy shield disappeared and Rickin fell to the floor panting. Rickin looked up at Xandrix; his eyes glimmering with patience and awe.

"Truly you are his descendent. Truly you are..." Rickin said to himself quietly.

Xandrix jumped from the med table and ran to Rickin, trying to pick the middle aged man off the floor.  
"I'm so sorry! I didn't know what I was doing!" Xandrix tried to explain.  
Rickin waved away Xandrix's apology.  
"Do not apologize, you simply don't know how to control your power."  
"Wha... what powers do I have?"  
Rickin stared at the little boy standing in front of him and a faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.  
"Why my boy, you can use the force!"  
Xandrix stood still, trying to comprehend what he had just heard. Of course, this revelation was no real surprise to Xandrix. For his entire life visions had plagued him cyclically. When angry or sad, he had been able to move small objects just by focusing his emotions on the image of the object. And his father too had demonstrated use in the force on multiple occasions. Whenever riots had occurred in the streets of Nar Shaddaa, his father had been able to find the safest places in the city where no one would find them. His aim with a blaster was uncanny and had always confused Xandrix as to how his father could shoot so well. And it always seemed as if Shardin's piloting ability was supernatural; his success in smuggling could not have been due to pure luck.  
"I'm actually not too surprised," Xandrix replied calmly. Rickin seemed taken aback by that statement. Any normal eleven year old would have begun to pester Rickin with questions endlessly. Xandrix just stood still, taking in the information and processing it at a rapid rate. He truly is a special boy, Rickin thought.  
"Rickin, before we talk about myself, can you tell me more about my parents?" Xandrix asked inquisitively. In that moment Rickin remembered he was talking with a mere child, and not a potentially powerful force user.  
"Ah, I'm sorry for getting off track. Anyways sit down," Rickin motioned to the two pilots chairs and sat down in front of the command console, "You're father and mother were agents of my organization as I said earlier." The elder man stroked his rough stubble wondering where to go next with his story.  
"The Sith invaded Nar Shaddaa for two reasons: first, to gain a garrison moon that will allow for the invasion of Nal Hutta. Of course, with civil war and a Republic counter attack, it wouldn't make sense for the Sith to make such a bold attack. But they did not invade Nar Shaddaa for just one reason," he paused and stared at Xandrix unintentionally creating a dramatic effect, "they came to the moon to find and kill your father."  
Xandrix lowered his eyes and felt a fresh wave of tears begin to fall down his face. Just the thought of his parents still stung.  
"Your father carried with him vital information that will change the war. His 'smuggling run' was an intel operation to remove Coline spice from outer rim territories in order to prevent widespread Imperial use of the drug. While on his intel sweep, he came across a revelation that would change the war," Rickin sighed and continued, "Your father ventured further into Sith space than any operative has in the past five years. Your father learned that the Sith hegemony and Empire have reunited through the creation of a Sith Imperial council. The Hegemony has been united into a ruling council that has brought together all sectors of Sith controlled space. The tide of the war has changed."

Rickin looked out of the view ports as the hypnotic colors of hyperspace whipped past the ship. Xandrix opened his mouth to say something but was interrupted by the clunking machinery of Rickin's ship exiting hyperspace. In front of the ship was a lush green world filled with lakes and large oceans. Xandrix's worries were forgotten as he marveled at the beauty of this untouched planet. Outside of holodramas and local net news, Xandrix had never seen widespread foliage before, or large bodies of water either.

This must be heaven, or as close to it as I can get, Xandrix thought.  
Rickin's gruff voice interrupted Xandrix's train of thought:"This, Xandrix, is Naboo. Home to my organization- home to my people," Rickin scratched at his beard and turned to Xandrix, a crease formed upon his forehead, "I haven't told you yet why I have taken you here yet I realize. Your parents, myself, and hundreds of other force users and specialists have joined forces to protect the independence of free worlds from the hands of the Republic and the Sith," Rickin paused and continued, "We call ourselves the Revanites. We are those that seek to protect the freedom and choice of those who are unable to protect themselves."  
Xandrix sat back in his chair, clearly overwhelmed with the immensity of knowledge he was receiving at the moment.  
"Well... what does Revanite mean? And why are you telling me all of this?" Xandrix asked, the information he received clearly more than he could take in all at once. Rickin chuckled and went on.  
"I am a Revanite. I fight for the continual independence of sovereign worlds who don't wish to join any larger government entity for fear of corruption or destruction. As to why we call ourselves Revanites pertains to a man that existed around two thousand five hundred years ago named Revan. A Jedi turned Sith turned wanderer, Revan was a powerful force user that was found true harmony within the force. Instead of being plagued by notions of light and dark, Revan found balance where previously there was believed none. And through this balance, peace can be found. While his methods for engineering peace within the galaxy were flawed, the ideals he stood by were pure and noble by the end of his life. This dogma, the quest to find balance within the force, within government, and within emotion, is the mantra that drives our organization. It is through seeing both sides of conflict that a balance point can be attained. Are you beginning to understand?"  
Xandrix nodded hesitantly, "Yes... but you still haven't answered my question. Why tell me all of this?"  
Rickin leaned back in his chair and admired the untouched beauty of Naboo as he input codes for landing. The sub space ion engines flaring, Rickin and Xandrix descended towards the surface of Naboo, towards the speck of an isolated island within the vast ocean expanse.  
"Well Xandrix... I'm telling you this because your father and I hoped that one day this order would be your home- with your permission of course. Your father had always hated the way that the Jedi and Sith forcefully took children from their parents. While the Jedi made this transaction seem noble and honorable, your father hated their hollow chivalry. He wanted to give you a choice in accepting your heritage within the force. Whether you choose to follow your parents footsteps is up to you. So, what do you say?"  
The older man looked upon Xandrix with a hopeful stare. He hadn't seen a child with the potential Xandrix had shown in ages. The boy, if he chose to follow the force, could become one of the most promising force candidates on Naboo, if not the entire mid rim sector. Xandrix closed his eyes and attempted to clear his mind. _Becoming a Revanite could offer me a life, a chance to redeem the memory of my parents. This... this is the only option I can take._  
"Rickin, I want to learn about the force. I want... no, I must become a Revanite. If this was my parents legacy, then I want to keep it going."  
Rickin smiled at the small boy that sat in front of him. Though he was just eleven years old, Xandrix showed a maturity that reflected an individual far older than just a mere boy. _Shardin and Karliah truly raised him right,_ Rickin reflected. The ship drew closer to the island and a large complex could be seen above the lush green foliage that decorated the island.  
"Well, then welcome to your new home, Xandrix."  
The two sat in silence as the ship began landing protocol.  
The images of his mangled mother and father began to fade and the beauty of the planet overwhelmed his senses.  
_Finally, I'm home_.


	7. Chapter 7

_Home, at last._  
Nero kicked his feet through the rough red sand of Korriban's surface. Though not native to the planet, Nero had never felt more in tune and alive when he was on Korriban. The ancient homeworld of the Sith; Korriban was the birthplace of all true Sith and the burial grounds for the great heroes of the old. Nero allowed a rare smile to come to his face. Before Korriban, he was nothing, insignificant within the berth of the force. But now the Dark Side had welcomed him into its warm embrace. And with this embrace, Nero had changed. His ebony coloring was not his natural color; when Nero had finally opened himself to the true power of the force, it marked him as its servant- a servant of the dark. All traces of his natural pink coloring had been covered by the fastidious growth of darkness on his body. The darkness drew upon his physical energy to survive its own manifestation, and in return Nero drew upon the darkness to fuel his own reserves within the unifying force. Nero could feel every connection within the force on Korriban; every insect, every beastly terentatek, and every Dark Lord of the Sith that waited for him within the Valley of the Dark Lords.  
A steady voice interrupted Nero's concentration:  
"General, I have brought a speeder bike from the cargo bay for your journey. Would you like me to bring it to you?" a lone officer inquired.  
Despite their inability to perceive the force, Nero enjoyed the company of his troops. Though hardened and unreachable during battle, Nero made himself a fair and respectable superior to his troops. He never turned away his troops when asked for advice or training, and because of his demonstrated amiability with the troops, he had gained a reputation as one of the more understanding and patient Sith warriors. He neither disliked or enjoyed the reputation he was given, but instead attributed his persona to the training he received from his master.  
In addition to the discoloration of his skin, the dark side of the force had also altered his voice, producing a raspy yet powerful voice. Many of his underlings even swore that his voice echoed within their minds whenever he talked.  
"Thank you Lieutenant, but that will not be necessary. A run is just what I need to refresh my senses. You and the rest of the troops may depart back to the Exactor. Tell the admiral to wait above orbit for my command. Dismissed."  
The commander saluted and marched back towards the shuttle, his head held steady and arms pressed to his side.  
_They have been well trained indeed_, Nero thought to himself. He turned towards the setting sun on the Eastern dunes and positioned himself within the force towards the sacred Valley of the Dark Lords. Without another thought he set off, sprinting at a pace that only could be supported by one drawing from the force.

The Valley of the Dark Lords towered above Nero, statues of fallen Sith lords guarding the entrance from any lost, and unfortunate, wanderers of Korriban's surface. A dark aura emanated from inside the Valley; Nero filled his lungs with the dark energy radiating from all surfaces of the Valley and he smiled to himself. In this Valley the force had been bent to the will of man, displacing the subservient role man had earlier practiced with the force. Seeing the destruction of many Sith worlds at the hands of the Republic, he understood that only a mastery of the force could end the Republic's oppressive onslaught into Sith territory.  
_Through the mastery of the force, I can stop the Republic; I can unite the galaxy under a strong and fair rule._  
Nero continued to contemplate his future in the undoing of the Republic as he walked past tomb after tomb of the Sith lords of the past.  
_Where they fell, I shall succeed!_  
Nero stopped in his tracks as a familiar sense danced at the edge of his consciousness.  
"Indeed you shall succeed. Your thoughts do not betray your exterior motives, and for that I am pleased. I am glad you have joined me in this Valley... or should I say joined us?"  
"Master?" Nero kneeled on the hot sand and bent his head prostrate to the ground.

_Rise my apprentice. Rise and face the dawn of your birth as a Sith, as a master of the dark._

Nero stood back up and looked towards the center of the Valley where the force had begun to cluster like a cyclone. Amidst the towering obelisks of past Dark Lords a small, crotchety man stood, cloaked in a dark black robe. The man leaned against a short, birch walking stick and acted as if he was taking a pleasant stroll. The menacing tomb stones decorating the sides of the valley cliffs seemed to shy away from the man as he stood silently, waiting. The heat of the Yavin system sun began to set on the horizon casting a hazy purple glow upon the hot red sand.

Nero's master had forever been an enigma to Nero; the small decrepit man had forever deceived all with his stature- though physically weak, Nero had met few who could rival his master's ability within the force. And the Sith had respected his power, granting him a seat upon the high council- a position coveted by thousands, but only held by nine.  
He strode towards the small man, his head bowed as he walked further and further into the maelstrom of force energy. When he had come within five steps of the robed figure he bowed and knelt upon the ground carefully with the utmost respect.  
"Darth Resis... master... I have come at your command. I am yours to command, always." Nero shivered as a wave of energy burst from his master's presence. Nero stretched out with the force and sensed... pride resonating from his master. Pride, why?  
"Rise Nero. For too long you have been a mere shadow in the eyes of the council. But I have since discussed with the council of your progress, of your devotion to our cause, and of your connection to the force. You are powerful and motivated; I have never seen more potential in any trainee than I have seen in you. Now rise Nero, rise and face me." Nero stood up and faced his master. Across from the tall, obsidian man stood the small little man leaning on a crotchety walking stick. His face was wrinkled with age and his mouth, now smiling, showed missing teeth and small signs of decay. But most of all, Darth Resis stood out for his eyes- pale, misty, and blue; Resis' eyes had lost their ability to perceive motion or light- he was blind. According to the other older Sith of the order, he had lost his vision when his own master had punished him with a burst of lightning, burning the retinas from his eyes. By many, he had been dismissed as useless, but Resis had never given up. Tuning his senses within the force, he had been first able to perceive the physical world around himself. But as he aged, his abilities had increased manifold times; he could then stretch his senses out across the world, and then later to entire systems. His mastery and promotion to the Sith council came when he was able to project his sight and consciousness over the entire distance of the galaxy. To the Sith order, he was known as The Seer, but to Nero he was something more, something closer... he was the only family Nero had ever known.  
Resis stretched out his arm and touched Nero gently upon the shoulder. A warm energy flowed through Resis' hands into Nero comforting him.  
"Nero, you have become powerful, but you still need to identify and embrace your power. But I sense that you have let hatred begin to control yourself. If you would, please recite the Sith code to me." Nero frowned in confusion, reciting the code was a practice only young alcolytes would carry out. But he conceded.  
"Peace is a lie, there is only passion. Through passion I gain strength, and through..."

"That is enough, thank you. I'd like to make a point, Nero," Resis paused then continued, "Though many Sith let hatred fuel their connection to the dark side of the force, no where in our creed is hatred mentioned as a proper bridge into the force. Hatred makes an individual a slave to his own desires. Your hatred has blinded you, Nero." Resis chided. Nero dropped his gaze to his feet and could feel blood rushing to his face. His master was never wrong and it hurt to be continually failing his master's expectations. A soft chuckle interrupted Nero's thoughts. "Nero, do not be sorry. Instead, use this mistake to further fuel your own mastery within the force. With each mistake you make, you further understand the fragility of what separates the Sith ideals from pure darkness. We seek to use passion to fuel our connection to the force, not hate. For if we allow hate to rule ourselves, we become enslaved to the ideals of madness. We seek to break the chains that bind us. Through victory, through freedom, we can unite the galaxy through the rule of a united council, and through the unity of the galaxy the Sith code will have no more use... we can find peace."

Nero had never felt more lost, how could peace be the pinnacle of the Sith ideologies if peace was a lie?

"But master, peace is a lie. Why... why do we seek to find what cannot exist?" Nero asked, donning a mask of confusion.

"Nero, peace is a lie because faction within the force destroys harmony. The Sith and Jedi cannot exist together if peace is to be found. This war we fight is about more than just the unity of the galaxy, it is about finding unity within the force. As we press further and further into the mid rim, the tide of the force shifts to our favor. The Jedi understand this fact... as do the Revanites. They seek to stop our progress, for they revel within war. The Jedi's history is tainted with war. Since the dawn of the Republic's founding, war and the Jedi order have been the two constants that prevail within the Republic's society. With the destruction of the Jedi and the conversion of the Revanites, the Empire will stretch from one end of the galaxy to the other. Peace is a lie because it does not exist in the present; but the future is ever changing, and along the currents of what could be, peace exists," Resis paused, allowing Nero to digest all he had heard. The hypnotic hum of energy began to grow louder, surrounding the master and apprentice.

Resis continued, "Nero, unlike thousands of the blood lusting mongrels that call themselves Sith, you have potential to be like no other. One day you may even call this Valley home for eternity, but first you must let go of your hatred. We do not kill to demonstrate power. We kill when all else has failed. Now kneel my apprentice." Resis commanded. The waves of energy surrounding the pair intensified and a whirlwind of sand rose around both force users, blocking them from the outside world. Nero knelt at his master's feet and let all of his inhibitions fall. He was ready for whatever came next.  
"With the deaths of Shardin and Karliah Shalosee, you have proven yourself worthy of the mantle of the Sith. You have let go of all worldly connections and truly become intertwined with the force." Darth Resis stood up straight and a darkness surrounded him, affording him a power that defied the limits of his small body. He picked up his walking stick and activated a switch; a red blade shot from the hollow tubing casting an incandescent glow upon the whirlwind surrounding the pair. Through the raging maelstrom eight figures appeared, each robed and wielding a glowing red saber. They formed a circle around the master and apprentice and raised their blades parallel to their bodies. Nero shivered as raw, unadulterated power emanated from each Sith Lord. He had never felt so much dark power concentrated in one place at one time. These must be the other eight members of the council, Nero thought. He opened his mind to their prodding consciousnesses and gasped in pain. They began to probe his mind, sifting through his every thought and action. Nero began to lessen the intensity of the pain with the force, but quickly rejected the idea. _I am not weak, I AM SITH_, Nero screamed within his mind. The eight figures were momentarily stunned. Each of the eight Sith stepped back as if they had been dealt a great blow. The maelstrom increased in power and Nero was forced to use the force to bolster his grip on the ground in order to not be whipped around by the sand storm. The nine council members looked unphased. A deep monotone chant began to circumvent through the storm.  
"WORTHY, WORTHY, WORTHY, WORTHY"  
Resis allowed himself another rare smile as he placed the edge of his saber centimeters above his apprentice's right and then left shoulder.  
Resis augmented his voice using the force, "Nero, you have been more than an apprentice to me. You have been a son. But now our relationship deepens further. It is been decided amongst the most powerful of all force users in the galaxy that you are worthy. The force has marked you as worthy, worthy of the mantle of the Sith. Now rise! Rise as a Dark Lord of the Sith, a conqueror of worlds... a true master of the force. Darth Nero, rise as kin to the Brotherhood of the Sith. Rise and meet me as brother, Darth Nero. Rise and meet your destiny!" Nero fully opened himself to the force and felt power flood through his body. He became a focal point for the force. His ebony skin began to shimmer, casting shadows upon the face of the surrounding storm. He stood up, his eyes glowing a deep yellow, darker than the blazing Yavin sun. He gathered within himself a sphere of energy and compressed it, using his body as a channel to gather loose external energy from the storm. Raising his arms, he unleashed the energy in a powerful wave. The nine council members braced themselves, allowing the force wave to pass over them without harm. The wave, upon meeting the surface of the surrounding storm, burst through the sand, ending the tumultuous maelstrom. The soft glow of the setting sun shone upon Nero's shimmering form. Resis and Nero faced each other as the eight Sith Lords backed away into the fading darkness, leaving the master and his old apprentice alone once more.  
Resis sheathed his saber and slumped back into the posture of an aging older man. He focused his pale blue eyes upon Nero and said nothing. Seeing his apprentice age into a master alarmed the old man and yet comforted him. Gone was his closest companion, his closest family. In his apprentice's place though stood the transubstantiation of the force contained within the body of a man. Nero had wildly exceeded Resis's expectations. Though the young man had faced defeat many times, it was the way he persisted through his failures that identified him as a true Sith. Darth Resis opened his vision within the force in an attempt to see Nero's new future.

_An image of serenity filled Resis's mind; through Nero, unity could be found within the galaxy. Darth Nero could finally bring long awaited peace to the galaxy. But a figure stood in Nero's way, blocking his future path to galactic unity. A young man with dark brown hair, cloaked in grey garments stood in Nero's path. Hatred filled the man's eyes. The young man opened his mouth and let out a scream fueled by pure hatred and the force. Darth Resis stumbled back and closed his mind's eye. _

Reopening his immediate senses, he felt Nero's presence kneeling beside his huddled form trying to calm his convulsing body.

"Master, what happened, what did you see?!" Nero said hoarsely.  
"Your future, Nero... your future. But I am fine... for now. Now help me up please," Resis commanded, out of breath. That answer did not seem to satisfy Nero.  
"With all due respect mast-, err Darth Resis, you are hiding something from me. What about my future did you see?" Nero's skin had begun to dull once more as the atmospheric force began to recede from the air. Resis shifted his weight onto his walking stick and directed his gaze to the ground.  
"Nero, the future is uncertain. What I saw... isn't necessarily set in stone. Your fut-"  
Nero waved Resis's excuses away and continued to press on, "No, I need to know what you saw."  
Resis shifted uncomfortably, "I cannot Nero."  
Nero stared hard at Resis and laced his voice with the swells of the force, "It's Darth Nero now, and as your brother in the Sith, as your friend, I demand to know what you saw in your vision! This is my future, not yours, not anybody's but mine!"  
Resis straightened up and a menacing sneer crossed his face. Nero took a step back and drew his consciousness into the furthest recesses of his mind, a reflex defensive posture all Sith trainees learned at a young age.  
"I... I'm sorry master, I spoke out of turn. Forgive me."  
The edge in Resis's face softened and he leaned back down upon his stick.  
"You raise a valid point, you are a Dark Lord now and you deserve to know some of the truth, but do not think that your new title gives you permission to speak to me in such a tone. While we are brother's in tradition and ritual, you will still treat and respect me as you would a father. Although I do understand your frustration, what I keep from you is not for my benefit, but it is because it is for the benefit of our cause."  
Nero lowered his head in shame and averted his gaze from his master.  
"But Darth Nero, I will tell you this: along the tendrils of possibilities that the future provides, you are the greatest hope for peace within these next few years that the Sith have. But be wary of a man cloaked in grey with dark brown hair. He will stand in your path. Beyond this I cannot tell you what I saw."  
Nero stood still and juggled this new information within his mind. "I...I thank you master for this information, and I understand my responsibilities. But for now I am yours to command. What would you have me do?"  
Resis chuckled and began to hobble away from Nero towards the tombs of the Sith Lords.  
"Why Nero, you are a Dark Lord of the Sith. Create peace in the galaxy. Unless the circumstances are dire and the council requests your presence, you have complete autonomy. Now walk with me." Nero and Resis walked past tomb after tomb in silence. No words needed to be spoken; Nero was a culmination of Resis's life's work. And now Nero would be unleashed upon the galaxy, to tame the untamable and bring the warring Republic to their knees.


End file.
